


One thirty.

by worth_the_risk



Series: Counting. [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (still hate it!), Don't Ask, F/M, Fluff, Golly, Molstrade, Towels, fluffy smexy times, in which there is a creeping shower named Mo, smexy fluff, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worth_the_risk/pseuds/worth_the_risk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Moll, I've got a meeting at one thirty, I need to get in the- oh." Maybe he should've given her a bit more of a warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One thirty.

"Moll, I've got a meeting at one thirty, I need to get in the- oh." Maybe he should've given her a bit more of a warning. He blushed, and she blushed, smiling sheepishly and finishing tucking the towel around herself. "I'm..sorry?"

"Don't be," she giggled. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before." She ran her fingertips over her own cheek, brushing the damp hair that was sticking to her face behind her ear. He looked down and readjusted his towel around his waist, eyes flickering up at her, still slightly uncomfortable. She walked over and took his hand, pulled it up to her lips, and kissed softly and innocently along the line of his knuckles. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into her space and paused, waiting for a warning. 

When it didn't come, he slowly leaned in, watching her expression and giving her all the time in the world to stop him. When the nervousness faded and her eyes slid shut, he pressed his lips to hers, one hand gently resting against the side of her neck and the other still twined with hers. Hesitantly, she pulled his hand out of hers and instead took it by the wrist and rested against the top edge of her towel where it was knotted, precariously hugging and hiding her form. Leaning back, her eyes darted to his and she nodded softly. He slid his hand down from where it rested on her shoulder and gently grasped both edges of the towel, holding her gaze as he pulled her closer and very slowly opened the towel. She gasped quietly and blushed deeply, not blinking, watching him. 

Her eyelids fluttered as he studied her face, and, after some of the anxiety eased from her features, he cautiously allowed his eyes to drift lower, skating over the stark line of her collarbone and resting in her suprasternal notch. As his eyes fell to her breasts, her breathing hitched softly and then sped up. He followed the nearly-invisible trail of hair below her belly button down to its slightly darker conclusion and then traced his way back up her to her face. Her cheeks were pink and her lips were parted and slightly damp; she smiled tentatively at him, eyebrows furrowing and eyes brimming. 

She lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek, and he turned into her palm and kissed it. She shuffled closer, biting her lip and smiling again before pecking his lips. His eyes slid heavily closed and he sighed, pulling her closer with the towel and kissing her tenderly. 

"I love you," he whispered shakily. "I love you and I _want_ you, but I'm not going to-" 

"Take me to bed." 

"Moll, I don't want to-" 

"That's a bold-faced lie, Gregory Lestrade." Her eyes fell to the evidence now barely concealed by his towel. " _Take me to bed._ I'm not going to change my mind. I'm ready. I'm okay." She pressed her lips softly to his and unhitched his towel. "Promise."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to have to post a timeline for all of this soon. It's so disorganized! Baaah, I'm sorry.


End file.
